


Wrinkles

by chooken



Category: Westlife
Genre: Birthday, Birthday Fluff, Fluff, M/M, MarKian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-31
Updated: 2015-01-31
Packaged: 2018-03-09 21:39:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3265295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chooken/pseuds/chooken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the day before Kian's birthday, and Mark just wants to sleep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wrinkles

“Mark?”

Mark lifted the pillow just enough to allow Kian’s voice in, but not the light. It was too fucking early for light, in his opinion. He didn’t actually know what time it was, not being able to see a clock from this position and only just having woken up, but in his experience it was always too early for light.

“What?” He groaned, every single ounce of raspy croak his own, and not put on for the benefit of his rather annoying significant other, lying not two inches from him.

“I love you.”

“Wassat all?” He slurred. “Msleepin Kian...”

“Okay, sorry.” Kian descended back into silence, and Mark mentally shut his eyes. Mentally, because he hadn’t opened them in the first place, but it kind of put a sense of closure to the whole thing, giving him even more incentive to go right back on sleeping. He loved Kian, truly, but he didn’t feel like expressing it when he was in the middle of doing something this important.

“Mark?”

Mark sighed, having wondered when this was going to happen again. Kian hadn’t sounded very asleep from what Mark could tell, and his breathing was incredibly indicative of a desperate need to say something seemingly random that Mark would have much rather known later. Later on he’d be proud that he knew what Kian’s various paces and tones of breathing meant. Later.

“What?”

“Um... it’s my birthday tomorrow!”

“No shit.” Mark croaked, lifting the pillow up just enough that he could see Kian’s face. But of course to see meant that light had to enter the eye and bounce off... something and... well, he’d learned it in biology at some point. But that didn’t matter right now. Only the fundamental point did. Light.

Kian was smiling, Mark saw when he managed to get just the right angle on scrunching up his eyes to be able to see with only minimum pain. He didn’t bother returning the smile.

“Hi!”

“Kian! It’s bloody...” He lifted his head to see the clock and then snapped back down again. “...eight a.m. Eight on a Sunday morning. Go back to sleep.”

“But it’s my birthday tomorrow and...”

“And you’re turning 24. Good on you. So stop acting like you’re six and go back to sleep.”

“But I...”

“Go. Back. To. Sleep.” Mark enunciated, pulling the pillow back down over his face even before the last word was out of his mouth. He shut his eyes, then scrunched them tighter when he heard Kian move, just waiting for the inevitable.

“Mark?”

“Kian?”

“It’s...”

“Your birthday tomorrow.” Mark finished. “Thanks Kian. I didn’t know. Hey, 24. You’ll be old soon. You’ll get wrinkles and your hair will start falling out. Yes. Good. Now think about that and let me sleep.”

The silence was foreboding, and Mark wished he’d kept his mouth shut. Any second and Kian would say...

“It’s not falling out, is it?”

“Yes.” Mark mumbled into the mattress.

“Mark...” Kian whined. “It’s not, is it? I know it isn’t. Come on, you were just kidding right?” Mark stayed silent, not caring about mustering up enough energy to reply. He could just about hear Kian’s pout. “It’s not.” Kian said, as if he was trying to convince himself more than Mark. “And anyway, I’d look okay if it did. I would. You’d think I’d look okay, wouldn’t you?” Mark rubbed his nose into the mattress in answer. Kian bent down, pulling Mark’s pillow away and throwing it onto the floor, and then draping himself bodily over Mark, making the younger boy grunt.

“Kian...”

“Marky...”

“Get off.”

“No.” If anything Kian pushed down harder, and Mark _definitely_ didn’t tilt his head closer when a soft tongue licked along the crease behind his ear. “Marky...” He whispered, and Mark felt something semi-hard dig into his back.

“Get off. Wanna sleep.”

“No you don’t...”

“Get off.” Mark pushed him away as hard as he could and yanked the blankets up over his head, gripping them tight in an attempt to hold Kian out. He heard Kian huff in disappointment and drew the blankets tighter. If he could hear Kian, he was never going to get to sleep.

“Mark?”

“Go ‘way.”

“Fine. Fuck off.” Kian snorted, and Mark felt the bed roll as the weight left it. He suddenly felt a whole lot colder and chanced a peek out from the blankets when he heard Kian’s feet pad away from the bed. Kian was nowhere in sight, and Mark felt bad for a second. Sleeping wasn’t as fun if Kian wasn’t there to sleep with him. It was when he was trying to sleep and Kian was acting like a tosser that he had issues with it.

And then he was blind.

“Gotcha!” Kian called from behind him as Mark struggled against the hands that had clamped a death grip over his face.

“Get off!” Mark yelped, forcibly removing the hands and pushing away from Kian, rolling to the other side of the bed. “Fuck, Kian! I want to sleep! Is that too much to ask for?”

Kian looked wounded, but Mark was too used to it to rise to the occasion. His lover just about had a degree in puppy-dog, but that was only appreciated when Mark wasn’t in an extreme state of laziness and actually gave a shit.

Kian’s lower lip started trembling, and Mark rolled his eyes.

His eyebrows knitted together, and Mark tugged the blanket up higher.

“Maaaaaark...”

Mark reached out with one arm and yanked Kian into the bed, tugging the blanket up over them and burying his face in Kian’s neck before the smaller boy could even realise that it was possible to react.

“Go to sleep.” Mark mumbled into Kian’s neck, grabbing the hands that fluttered uncertainly and wrapping them around his own waist. “Please. I’ll humour you later.”

Kian took in a deep breath and then let it out, his whole body relaxing into Mark’s and curling into the warmth of their embrace. Mark smiled.

“Mark?” Mark was about to open his mouth and tell Kian to fucking well take the hint and go back to sleep, but his words were hindered by his sleepy condition. Just as he managed to reach a semblance of articulate, Kian continued.

“I love you.”

The words died on Mark’s lips and he snuggled closer, kissing Kian’s neck gently and feeling Kian smile in the way his arms tightened, stroking gently along Mark’s spine.

“I love you too.”

“Mmm...” Kian kissed his hair and Mark had to stop himself from giggling when Kian’s legs wrapped around his waist, tugging them closer together. Instead he bent up his knees, pressing them to Kian’s bottom, trying to maintain as much contact as he could.

“Go to sleep, love.” He heard Kian whisper. “You look knackered.”

Mark was about to say ‘duh’, but changed his mind at the last second, reverting to the much less provocative “Kay.” He didn’t need a reason for Kian to start up again. He relaxed, just enjoying the warmth and the silence, focusing on Kian’s steady breathing and the reassuringly slow rhythm of his heart.

“My hair’s not falling out though, right?”

“No.” Mark whispered, already heading back to sleep.

“And I don’t have wrinkles?”

“Nah.”

“Will you love me when I do?”

“Yeah.” Mark breathed.

“Good thing.” Kian nodded against the top of Mark’s head. “You’re getting wrinkles, you know?”

Mark refused to answer. He absolutely refused to let Kian do this to him. Sleep was more important than wrinkles.

“Just in the corner of your eyes when you laugh, but they make you look really um... distinguished. Your hair’s still nice though. Although you do seem to be getting more on your arse than on your head nowadays.”

Mark rubbed his face into Kian’s neck, willing him to shut up. Sleep good. Need sleep. And his arse was _not_ hairy! What the fuck was Kian talking about? Anyway, at least his hair wasn’t thinning from all the bloody bleach. He hadn’t lied when he’d said Kian’s hair wasn’t falling out. Thinning was an entirely different matter.

“At least you’re not like Shane. Feel sorry for Gill. She’ll grab his arse and her hands’ll get tangled there. Not that I like thinking about his arse. And god knows how long his hair’s got left. I’d say a week at most, and that was four years ago. I...”

“Kian.” Mark couldn’t hold it in any longer. He just couldn’t. “Shut up if you don’t want me to _rip_ your hair out. Go to sleep.”

“Right. Yeah, okay.” Kian fell silent again, and Mark shut his eyes. Just go to sleep really really quickly and he’ll stop talking, he told himself.

“But then you’d have to look at me bald, which is even worse because...”

“Shut up.”

“... I wouldn’t have to see it all the time but you would. Although the press would...”

“Kian...”

“...get onto it like mad, like when you went blond that time and...”

“Shut up.”

“...that was a really stupid idea cos it looked really really really dumb...”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“...but it wasn’t as bad as when you shaved it off, because it was a really dodgy job but I still loved you anyway cos...”

“Kian!” Mark wrenched himself away from the other boy and sat up, glaring. “You’re thinning, your wrinkles make you look like a rumpled sheet, and may I remind you of the mullet when you start bashing my various hairdos. Pot. Kettle. Black. My arse is not hairy, and at least I can _grow_ hair somewhere that’s not my head, although lately you’re having trouble growing it there too. Now shut the fuck up or the press are going to wonder why you’re standing in your pyjamas on the front lawn without the house keys. Just let me sleep!” He dropped back down and yanked the blankets over his head for the hundredth time that morning. It was warm, it was soft, and Mark’s head felt like it was about to explode through sheer pressure.

“Mark?” Mark batted away the tentatively groping hands that brushed against the outside of the blanket, but then allowed it, too frustrated to care. Kian’s arms wrapped around him and the blanket, pulling Mark into a hug.

“I’m sorry.”

“Shut up.” Mark sighed.

“Okay. Sorry.” Kian murmured, nuzzling the blankets aside so he could kiss Mark’s neck. “I’ll be good. Just tell me what you’ve got me for my birthday.”

“No.” Mark groaned.

“I’ll be quiet if you do.”

“I’ll throw you out on the lawn if you don’t. Without your pyjamas.”

“Fair enough.” Kian said after a short pause, possibly having picked up the menacing tone in Mark’s voice. Mark smiled. “Goodnight babe. I love you.”

“Love you too.” Mark murmured.

“Love you more.” Mark nodded, staying silent. “What, you don’t love me more? That’s what you’re supposed to say. It doesn’t work if you don’t. You should...

“I bought you three shirts, the pair of jeans you wanted, that Metallica CD and I’m taking you car shopping. Now be quiet.”

Kian grinned. Mark could feel teeth against his neck. “Really?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Goodnight.”

Mark nodded, burying his head in the blankets as he heard Kian’s breathing even out. Finally some peace and quiet. It was probably for the best that he get it now, especially considering what Kian would be like after he got his present the next day. The other present. The one Mark hadn’t told him about.

A lovely aerosol of blonde spray-on hair. The really good one. From the infomercial.

He was so dead.

Mark smirked and then, feeling Kian breathe against him as warm hands pressed soothingly into his back, he let himself drift off to sleep.


End file.
